


Through the Night

by ClimbingClassy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Werewolf!Keith, klance, monster au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 09:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7678249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClimbingClassy/pseuds/ClimbingClassy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an awful car accident, Lance is sent to spend the summer with his god mother Allura where he'll be reunited with his two best friends. Along the way he runs into his old time 'rival' Keith who's holding on to more secrets than they know. Little though they like it, they both need each other. When friendship becomes more and Lance get caught up in Keith's life, he'll need the help of his friends more than ever to find Pidge's family and keep Keith safe from those that hunt him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            “Looks like it might rain today,” the portly bus driver called back to his only passenger.

            “Yea, looks like it,” Lance said, peering through the window at his side. Heavy grey clouds drifted through a cerulean sky. Trees swarmed past in blurs of green, some tall enough to brush the heavens with their branches.

            “You said you were coming to visit Five Lion Ranch, right? Nice lady that owns it,” the driver smiled up into the rearview mirror, eager to make amicable conversation as most small town southerners are wont to do. “Are you family?”

            “Mi madrina,” Lance answered. The driver didn’t seem to understand. “My godmother,” he explained. Lance’s mother and Allura had been close friends ever since they were young girls, and she’d been a part of their family for as long as Lance could remember. His mother had moved away from the small town of Azle, Texas when Lance was just starting his senior year of high school for work, while Allura had stayed to take over her late father’s ranch.

            “Well, she’s a very fine young woman,” the driver reassured him. “That uncle of hers is a little odd, though. Eccentric some would say.”

            Lance flipped through the album of family photos he kept on his phone. Laughing and smiling faces looked up at him from the screen and sent a pang of longing straight through his heart. He scrolled through photo after photo of his younger siblings pulling silly faces and smothering him with affection looking for one picture in particular. It was an older photo of his mother when she was his age. Beaming up at the camera and squinting in the sun, she sat in a field bursting with wild flowers, pressed shoulder to shoulder with another young girl that could only be Allura. He studied the photo closely as the buss rumbled on, rocking with each hump or hole that it rolled across. Even then she was very pretty, with wild white hair that tumbled over her shoulders like clouds and eyes that could rival the clearest summer sky.

            The next photo was far more recent. It was the picture his godmother had sent him when she found out he was coming to stay for the summer. Allura was older now, her hair had grown longer and wilder, though her eyes were as young as ever. Years of hard work out in the sun had darkened her skin, which only made her features stand out further. Next to her stood a large boy that looked more like a bear, but with the friendliest face. Hunk was one of Lance’s best friends growing up, and he was excited to see his kind face again. On Allura’s other side was someone much shorter with a wild head of auburn hair that flipped out in either direction. Pidge’s eyes were partly obscured by the flash of the camera reflecting off of their glasses. Pidge didn’t seem to grow any taller in the three years Lance had been away.

            They rode in silence for a while, Lance lost in thoughts of home and the driver nodding along to whatever was bouncing around in his head. Small towns faded in and out of focus, like islands in an endless sea of fields and trees. Once they drove past a large lake and the late afternoon sun glimmered off of it like the surface of a shattered mirror. Great patches of darkness slid across the water’s surface as if some giant creature swam beneath, but it was only the shadow of monstrous clouds. As the sun began to set they turned a darker grey, growing so large that they could hardly move without brushing one another, and so heavy that they seemed to touch the tops of trees.

            Lance must have dozed off for a while, because when he awoke the sky outside was bleeding away. The last rays of sunlight were smothered by the thickening clouds, darkening everything beneath them.

            “Now, when we get there I won’t be able to take you all the way up,” the driver called, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’ll be dropping you off right by the post office. Got someone coming to pick you up? If not, the ranch is just a short walk up the road a ways. Large iron gate that says Five Lion Ranch _._ Can’t miss it.”

            Lance thanked the man. His eyes followed the white sign the swept by his window. _Welcome to Azle_ was painted on it in large red letters and lit from below. He wondered whether or not Allura and his friends would be waiting for him.

            By the time they pulled up next to the post office dusk had faded away and night was creeping in to take its place. Thunder roared ominously from the sky as the first fat drops of rain hit the bus’s windshield. Lance stood up, stretching as lightning struck overhead, blinding them both for a moment. “Good luck!” the driver called, closing the door behind Lance as he pulled his suitcase behind him. Thunder peeled through the sky once more as the bus rumbled away.

            Lance looked around for any sign of his godmother, but there wasn’t any sign of anyone. Just my luck, he thought bitterly. He took shelter beneath the post office’s small awning. It was an old white brick building smaller than a house. The light inside was dark and a _We’re Closed_ sign swung in the window. He dug in his pockets for his phone as the rain began to fall in earnest. He had planned to call his godmother, but when he pulled it out he found that its battery had died.

            “What? Really?” he snapped, attempting to turn it on but to no avail. Angrily he shoved it back in his pocket and resolved to wait, either for Allura to arrive or the rain to stop. Whichever came first.

            Patience, however, had never been Lance’s best virtue. After only minutes he found himself pacing. Each second seemed to take longer than the last, and the rain showed no sign of lessening. Waiting for what had felt like hours, and seeing no sign of rescue, Lance resolved to make the trek to Allura’s ranch on foot. Cursing under his breath and wrapping his jacket tightly around him, he shouldered his way out through sheets of cold, drenching rain.

            “Just a ways down the road, right? How hard could it be to find this place?” Lance muttered to himself. There were no street lights, and the rain made it even harder to see. He managed to stumble along the dirt road now turned to mud by the sudden downpour. Slipping and sliding, Lance lost his footing more than once. He walked for what felt like forever, but there was no sign of Allura. Frustrated, he continued on, stumbling and cursing under his breath with every few steps. The rain only seemed to pelt him harder the longer it went on, beating against his face and dragging at his clothes. He squinted through the downpour and thought he could see the road widening. No, that wasn’t it…

            “Oh come on!” he yelled in frustration as he got close enough to see that there was a fork in the road. Lance had no idea which way was right, and without his phone he couldn’t pull up a map. The split paths mirrored each other, both being equally dark and turned to mud. Without much thought, Lance chose the left path, trusting in his natural sense of direction.

            He went back and forth between holding his suitcase up as some kind of umbrella and hauling it along behind him, pulling it free every few steps. There was still no sign of anyone. Dense undergrowth pressed closely to the sides of the road, rustling and waving as if alive. Once or twice Lance could’ve sworn he heard a branch snap somewhere off in the inky blackness. A cold ripple that wasn’t caused by rain went down his spine. He had the suspicious feeling he was being watched.

            “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” he said to himself, alone in the dark on an unfamiliar road where who knows what could be stalking him. The fact that it was raining only made matters worse. Thunder rolled overhead and lightning streaked across the sky. Everything around him was lit for a moment. Light and shadow danced together for a split second, giving monstrous shapes and illuminated eyes to ordinary trees and plants. Lance could feel his pulse quickening, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Thunder peeled in the sky once more, farther off. It continued in a low drum, slowly growing louder. It wasn’t until headlights swept over him from the distance that Lance realized it wasn’t thunder, but an oncoming car.

            Lance’s fear melted into relief as he waved the vehicle down. Allura must’ve been coming for him after all. He didn’t even care how cold and wet and miserable he was at the moment, he just wanted to go somewhere warm, preferably to bed.

            The truck stopped a few feet in front of him, and Lance had to shield his eyes from the blaring lights. Lance made his way towards the driver’s door, scrambling and sliding in his haste.

            “Yo, Allura! Coldn’t have come sooner? I’ve been wait—,” Lance’s happiness fled as quickly as it had arrived, replaced by sudden irritation. “Oh. It’s you.”

            The driver’s window rolled down, and it wasn’t Allura at all. Dark eyes peered down at Lance from inside the truck. “What’re you doing out in a storm like this?” Keith’s calm voice drifted out through the rain.

            “What’s it matter to you?” Lance snapped. Keith looked perplexed, as if he didn’t recognize Lance, which only made him angrier. Throughout their school years they’d always been competing, both in the classroom and at sports. Keith had always managed to surpass Lance in all of their endeavors.

            “Want a ride or not?” Keith glared.

            “I don’t need your help Keith. I’ll make it to Allura’s just fine on my own.” Lance made to turn away, but the wheels of his suitcase had gotten sucked into the mud.

            “How do you know my name?” Keith asked. Lance could see his eyes glimmering darkly beneath the shadow cast by the tuft of hair that fell across his forehead.

            “You seriously don’t remember me? Lance? From school?” he fumed. Keith continued to give him a silent, perplexed stare. “We were always competing! At everything!” With a final tug Lance managed to free his suitcase, stumbling back from the force of it. He tried to catch himself but the ground was slick and he fell.

            “Oh, it’s you,” Keith said, eyeing Lance the way one would look at historical plagues or uninteresting headlines. Lance, gathering himself and what was left of his dignity, stood. He brushed off what mud he could and began trudging away in the opposite direction. “Allura doesn’t live down this road,” Keith called. Lance stopped, pressing a closed fist to his forehead.

            “Just tell me how to get there then,” he called without looking back. Keith was silent. When Lance finally turned around he found that Keith wasn’t even looking at him at all, but instead up at the sky.

            “Can’t. The road will be flooded by now. Besides, it’s too dark. Looks like your only option is to come with me.” Lance groaned loudly, and Keith’s eyes snapped back to his face. “Hey, I’m not too happy about it either. Or would you rather stay out here?”

            Lance stood indignantly for a moment, weighing his options as rain continued to pull at his clothes and chilling his skin. Finally, and against his better judgement, he gave in. “Fine.” He made his way around to the passenger’s side of Keith’s truck, throwing open the door and chucking his suitcase in.

            “Hey, watch it,” Keith said as Lance pulled himself into the cab. At least it was warm and dry inside, he thought.

            Keith didn’t say another word to him as he put the truck into reverse, carefully turning it around and heading back up the dirt road. Lance avoided looking at him, focusing instead on the droplets of water that streaked against his window. As they rode on in tense, uncomfortable silence the clouds above parted for a brief moment. Water glistened like star light, each bead streaking against the window a shooting star in the light of the nearly full moon.


	2. Chapter 2

            The building Keith pulled up to wasn’t really much of a house, in Lance’s opinion. The walls were made of aged, greying wood with an awning that covered a small porch sagging slightly at its edges like a frown. The windows watched with lifeless eyes and even the weeds sprouting around the corners were brown and drooping. An abandoned spider web glimmered wetly in one of its corners. Lance partly expected Keith to keep on driving. Surely this place was uninhabited.

            “Wait, _this_ is where you live?” Lance scoffed as Keith cut the engine. The sad little building was hardly larger than a shack.

            “Yea. Got a problem with it?” Keith challenged. Lance stared at him in disbelief but Keith’s expression was like a wall: hard and indifferent.

            “No, looks great. Very homey,” Lance deadpanned. They slogged through more mud and uncut grass to reach Keith’s doorstep. The wooden boards groaned beneath their feet.

            “Shoes off out here. I don’t need you tracking mud through my house,” Keith said, slipping off his own shoes. He left Lance at the threshold; the door he left open behind him was the only sign that Lance was invited to come in.

            “Thanks for your hospitality,” Lance muttered as he kicked off his shoes and stepped inside. The interior of the place was just as sparse as its exterior. Though Lance seemed to be standing in the middle of the living room, it didn’t look like there had been much living going on there. A faded, threadbare couch commanded the center of the room; it faced the window, as there was no television. A rug that had probably once been quite colorful but was now a mottled arrangement of greys and browns was strewn beneath a bare coffee table. “I’m guessing you don’t get visitors often,” he remarked.

            “No, not really,” Keith answered from the connecting kitchen where the only source of light came from. It, however, was no prettier for its abundance of brightness. The walls were covered in peeling yellow wallpaper with marble counters wrapped around them that had seen better days. He took a seat at the small wooden table that sat between the kitchen and the living room. One of the legs was slightly shorter than the others and caused it to wobble.

            As he moved across the room something brushed against Lance’s leg. He nearly leapt out of his skin, emitting a high pitched sound somewhere between a gasp and a scream. “What was that?” Lance asked, his voice betraying him.

            “That’s Cherry,” Keith smirked, “My cat.” The creature slunk past Lance and leapt smoothly into Keith’s lap, butting his hand with her head as he scratched behind her ears. She was smaller than most cats, with fur that was a mottled blend of ash and copper. Amber eyes watched Lance through slits as she settled down on her owner’s leg, kneading his knee with her paws. Lance was surprised; he’d never expected Keith to be a cat person.

            “Oh, that’s…nice,” said Lance. He wasn’t quite sure what to do in a stranger’s home, especially when it felt so inhospitable. Awkward, suffocating silence built up between them, filling up the small room and threatening to crush them both. He rifled through his things, pretending to be searching for something. The weight of Keith’s cold, hard gaze fell on his shoulders. Lance nearly sighed aloud with relief when Keith finally stood, carefully holding the sleeping cat up to his shoulder.

            “I’m going to bed. Bathroom’s through that door over there. You can stay on the couch,” he called as he stepped through the only door leading off from the kitchen, disappearing into the darkness beyond. Cherry watched Lance with unwavering eyes over his shoulder. Lance squirmed. Such a stare was far too intense for a cat.

            Lance crossed the creaky floorboards to the darkened doorway past the living room. It led into a small, unadorned hallway with two rooms on either side. He peered into the door on his left and found a small utility closet that with a small battered washer and dryer. Turning around, he stepped into what could only be the bathroom. Like everything else in Keith’s house, the white marble tile that lined the floors and counters was faded and cracked.

            Rain pattered against the bathroom’s window, drumming against the glass like anxious fingertips. The other side of the window might as well have been the infinite blackness of space for all Lance could see out of it. Turning away, he changed quickly into dry clothes, leaving the wet ones to dry in the shower. Lance padded back into the living room. Keith, just coming out of his bed room, stopped in the door way.

            “Woah. Your leg,” was all he said as he unabashedly stared at the point where Lance’s loose basketball shorts ended.

            “They look great don’t they?” Lance grinned, striking a pose.

            “It’s…gone,” said Keith. Lance looked down as if noticing the prosthetic limb replacing his right leg for the first time.

            “Well, would you look at that!” he said, turning it this way and that. Lance had long since lost his sense of embarrassment over people’s staring. Keith gave an irritated huff and leaned haughtily against the doorway. Cherry materialized from the darkness and wrapped around Keith’s feet. “I got in a really bad accident last year. The doctor said I was lucky to only lose a leg,” Lance explained. He could feel the question burning in the air, in the way Keith looked at his leg, as if he’d actually spoken it.

            “I’m sorry to hear that,” Keith said slowly, as if it took time for him to find the right words and string them together. For a moment, Lance was taken aback.

            “Er, thanks,” Lance muttered, but Keith was already gone. Like a shadow he’d slipped into the darkness of his room. Only Cherry remained, her eyes amber discs in the dimness. A pillow and blanket were laid over the arm of the couch where moments ago there had been nothing.

            Lance made himself as comfortable as he could. The darkness itself seemed to breath around him, solidifying in the corners and retreating beneath the couch when lightning illuminated the room. Lance eased his prosthetic off, rubbing the stump of his leg to ease the tension. He drew the blanket up around his shoulders and watched the trees dance to the song of the storm.

~ * ~ * ~

            When Lance awoke it was still dark, but the storm had softened. Rain whispered lightly outside, as if it could sense that the world was trying to rest. Lance tossed and turned trying to settle, but was far too restless to sleep. With a sigh, he reattached his prosthetic and stood up. The floorboards seemed to question him as he passed. _Where are you going?_ they asked. Lance tried to step carefully across them, like navigating a minefield., but each step betrayed him.

            He paused outside Keith’s bedroom door, which had been left open. For a moment Lance thought about turning around, he had no business here, but curiosity overwhelmed him. Tentatively, he stuck his head inside.

            Keith’s room was darker than the others; a heavy curtain blocked out all light from the window. His bed was tucked in the far corner between the window and the wall. The figure in the bed moved and Lance froze, thinking Keith was still awake. Holding his breath, he counted the seconds. If Keith had been awake, surely he would’ve said something by now. Feeling brave, Lance took a few steps forward.

            Two amber orbs shone in the darkness at the foot of Keith’s bed. Cherry’s eyes watched him inquisitively, her curiosity mirroring his own. Lance moved in a slow circle. If he’d expected Keith’s room to have any more décor than the rest of his place, then he was wrong. Besides the bed, the only furniture in the room was a low dresser, the top of which was lined with well-worn books. However, like a magnet, Lance’s eyes were drawn to the far wall. Nearly the entire expanse was covered in maps and photographs pinned together to create some sort of collage. Lines crossed all over the place, and little hand written notes stuck out here and there. In the dark Lance couldn’t make any of it out, but he studied it none the less.

            He was so lost in thought that when the bed creaked behind him, Lance jumped. His heart pounded in his chest as he spun around. Keith shifted in his sleep, his face pale amongst the pool of black hair on his pillow. Dark lashes fluttered against his cheeks. Lance watched him for a while, mesmerized, feeling as if he were intruding upon something intimate. He looked so peaceful, except for the moments when his brow would furrow, the shadow of a dream flitting over his face. Keith shrunk into himself, curling up into a tight ball. Sometimes his arms or legs would move, his fingers would curl and uncurl, like a dog dreaming of rabbits.

            Ever so slowly Lance backed out of the room, his focus still on Keith’s face. He expected the other boy’s eyes to open at any moment, that his soft expression would harden once more. Lance’s bare foot brushed softly over the floor. The wood here was rougher than that of the other rooms, and with a start he realized why. He had been so caught up in the weird conspiracy wall that he hadn’t even noticed the claw marks crisscrossing the floor. With a quick glance towards the bed, Lance bent down to touch them with his hand. Cherry leapt lightly from the bed and padded over to him. Her eyes searched his as if trying to tell him something. Lance scratched behind her ears the way he’d seen Keith do, but she ducked from his touch, prancing lightly out of his reach. As she stretched she extended her claws, and Lance noticed they were far too small and close set to make the marks on the floor.

            “Weird,” Lance muttered to himself as he retreated to the safety of the couch, “I don’t think Keith has a dog.” He stared up at the ceiling, wondering. He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but his dreams were restless and filled with thunderclouds hiding large amber eyes and giant claws made of lightning.

~ * ~ * ~

            The sun shimmered through glistening emerald leaves and a soft morning mist to light warmly on Lance’s face. He, however, rather wished it would fuck right off back behind the clouds from whence it came. He threw his pillow over his face hoping to block out the light for a few more minutes of sleep. He had never woken so unrested before.

            Lance was just starting to doze when the smell of coffee drifted over him. He rose like the undead, blindly attaching his leg and stumbling into the kitchen. Keith was leaning against the counter, eyes watching Lance with weary alertness. Cherry circled his legs, watching Lance with the same expression.

            Without a word, Keith set down a steaming cup in front of Lance. He thanked him, taking a sip without thinking and burnt his mouth. Keith tried to hide his smirk behind the lip of his own mug.

            The two drank in silence, Lance too tired to make conversation and Keith too content to watch in silence. His eyes studied Lance, trying to pull him apart and piece him back together. He felt like a bug beneath a magnifying glass. A few times he attempted to meet Keith’s intense, unwavering gaze, but didn’t last long. His mind kept drifting back to the night before, the softness he’d seen in Keith as he slept. He had the urge to tease him about it, but then he’d have to admit to snooping in his room and watching him while he slept. Besides, that memory was something he wanted to keep to himself.

            Lance was just about to ask about leaving when the sound of an engine came from outside. Both boys turned towards the door. For a moment Lance could’ve sworn a shadow of uncertainty darkened Keith’s face. Neither moved as a car door was shut and heavy footsteps took the porch in two strides. Lance was expecting a knock, but the stranger merely let himself in. Keith stiffened, his hands curling more tightly around his coffee mug.

            “Just wanted to come by an—,” Shiro stopped as his eyes fell on Lance. Confusion bordering on anger filled his face. “Lance? What’re you doing here?”

            “He was lost out in the storm last night and took the wrong road,” Keith answered before Lance could get out a word. Shiro’s eyes slid from one to the other, before finally resting on Keith.

            “Keith, that was very reckless, even dangerous,” he chided, placing his hands firmly on his hips. He seemed to take up the entire room, wide shoulders spanning wall to wall and his voice silencing even the squeak of the floors.

            “The storm didn’t seem that bad,” Lance offered, but the others were acting as if he weren’t even there. Their eyes were locked in silent conversation; Lance caught in the middle of a battle of wills. The tension in the room felt more physical than the storm last night, shivering over his skin, and he was glad when it finally broke.

            “Come on Lance. Allura’s worried sick,” he turned to Keith, “We’ll talk about this later.”

            “I don’t get what the big deal is,” said Lance as he gathered his things, but neither of the others made any attempt to explain. Keith was staring at the floor, looking far worse than Lance had originally noticed. His skin was paler, almost sickly, and his eyes were shadowed by deep circles beneath them.

            Lance stopped at the door to say something that fell between a thank you and a goodbye, but Keith had already disappeared into the shadows of his room, which was dark even now. For a moment he wondered whether or not Keith even existed outside of its darkness. He seemed more like a ghost than the boy he remembered from his school years.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's all starting out so slow. I didn't realize how long the build up would be. Don't worry though, things will start to pick up in the next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for an locational inaccuracies, the setting is loosely based on my own memories from the summer I spent on my godmother's ranch in texas.  
> Prepare for a lot of klance angst cause boy will there be some!


End file.
